Winter Solstice (Winter #4)(25)

“Sounds like a great party already,” Eddie says.

“Go in and get yourself a drink!” Mitzi suggests.

“Yes,” Eddie says. “Yes, I think I’ll do that.”


Eddie weaves and wends his way through the crowd toward the bar. There are some faces he recognizes from the Quinn family—he sees one of the Quinn sons with a pretty blond woman, then he sees the Quinn daughter. Once upon a time, she was the girls’ music teacher. Eddie sees the woman, Kai, who owns the new crystal store in town; she used to be Eddie’s neighbor out in Wauwinet. He sees Chief Kapenash with his wife, Andrea. The chief has been friendly since Eddie’s release—he calls every once in a while to “check in”—but now Ed just raises his glass in front of his face, as if to say, Don’t come over here. And really, can Eddie blame him? The last thing the chief wants is to be seen talking to a convicted felon, the most renowned criminal Nantucket has seen in recent history.

Standing at the bar in front of Eddie is Hunter Bloch Sr., which makes Eddie wonder where Allegra has gotten to. He scans the party. He doesn’t see a geisha girl or anyone else in costume. Eddie can’t help but feel miffed and misled. If you’re throwing a party on Halloween and it’s not a costume party, this should be explicitly mentioned. No costumes. Eddie realizes he’s still wearing his Panama hat, but he’s hesitant to take it off because what if he loses it? God knows they aren’t cheap.

Hunter Bloch Sr. turns around holding two cocktails—million bucks says he’s come to the party with his broker Rosemary Whelden. He’s always seen in public with Rosemary, never his wife, Kathleen. All of Nantucket seems to accept this without comment. How is it, Eddie wonders, that some people can get away with whatever they want?

Hunter gives Eddie the once-over. “Linen suit, Eddie? Don’t you know it’s almost November?”

Eddie won’t bite. So he’s unseasonal—sue him. “Heard your son stepped out on my daughter,” Eddie says. “Allegra is taking it pretty hard.”

“Is she?” Hunter Bloch Sr. says. “She can’t be taking it too hard, because I just saw her following the guest of honor out the side door, and they had a bottle of tequila with them.” Hunter Bloch Sr. winks at Eddie, a gesture Eddie finds patronizing. “She’ll bounce back. Like father, like daughter. Now, I’ve got to go deliver this drink.”

“Yes,” Eddie says. “Give Rosemary my best.”

Eddie shakes his head. Why was he so anxious to attend this party? He doesn’t like anyone here. And if what Hunter Bloch Sr. says is true, then Eddie has just lost his date. Eddie wonders if he should try to find Allegra. Maybe he should just call her.

He does neither. It’s his turn at the bar finally. He’ll order a drink.

“Vodka martini, please,” Eddie says.

As the bartender is shaking it up, Eddie feels a poke-poke-poke in his left shoulder. He turns and barely stifles a groan. It’s Rachel McMann.

“Hey, Rachel,” Eddie says. Rachel McMann is a social butterfly. She must know nearly everyone here, so why is she bothering to talk to Eddie? “Happy Halloween.” He’s surprised that Rachel didn’t come in costume. He can easily picture her dressed as Carmen Miranda, with a big basket of fruit on her head.

“Eddie,” Rachel says.

Eddie sees Rachel’s husband, Dr. Andy McMann, standing a few yards away. Dr. Andy used to be Eddie’s dentist, so Eddie can’t exactly ignore him. Eddie waves halfheartedly; Dr. Andy hoists his drink much like Chief Kapenash just did, his body language saying, I’m acknowledging you, but a more in-depth conversation is not necessary.

“Eddie,” Rachel says again. She has positioned herself under his chin; she’s as persistent as a housefly.

“Yes, Rachel,” Eddie says. “What can I do for you?”

“I heard you have the Powerball people coming this week,” Rachel says. “Congratulations.”

“Who told you that?” Eddie asks. He tries to recall whom he told about the Powerball people. Glenn Daley knows, and Barbie, and Grace. And Addison Wheeler, who wants to show the Christys two high-end properties off Polpis Road (one of the properties has its own vineyard, which will likely scare the Christys off).

So actually, there are a couple of ways Rachel could have found out.

“I have a listing in Monomoy,” Rachel says. “I think you should show it to them.”

“How much is it?” Eddie asks.

“Twenty-nine million,” Rachel says.

Eddie fights to keep his poker face. Rachel McMann has a twenty-nine-million-dollar listing. How does that happen? Anyone who owns such a valuable piece of property should have the good sense to use a broker with experience and with more… gravitas. Rachel is about as intellectually substantial as a balloon on a parade float.

“Too high,” Eddie says. “Their max is fifteen.”

“My buyer would settle for twenty-five,” Rachel says. She winces. “Divorce.”

“Still too high,” Eddie says. “Sorry. Thanks for thinking of me.” And stay away from my buyers, he thinks.

Rachel sighs. “Well, I have other properties. Cheaper. One on Medouie Creek Road. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Don’t bother, Eddie thinks. The bartender empties the cold elixir into a martini glass and rubs a lemon twist around the rim. Here, Eddie thinks as he takes the first sip, is the antidote to Rachel McMann. “Please do,” he says.